


Family Matters

by Candy_A



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Series: New Beginnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:35:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candy_A/pseuds/Candy_A
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Blair 'come out' to Jim's father.<br/>This story is a sequel to By the Dawn's Early Light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Matters

## Family Matters

by Candy Apple

Author's disclaimer: Pet Fly & UPN own the guys and The Sentinel. No money being made.

* * *

Family Matters  
by Candy Apple 

"I still don't know as this is such a great idea, Jim." Blair chewed his lower lip and stared into the closet he now shared with his lover. Of course, that meant he had to actually aim for the hangers now when he put his clothes away, so that should have made selecting what to wear infinitely easier. 

"Will you please quit worrying about it, sweetheart?" Jim came up behind his boxer-clad lover and wrapped his arms around him. "You're acting like we need his permission or something." 

"You just sort of reconciled with your dad a few months ago, and this could mess up everything." Blair sighed. 

"You know his reaction isn't going affect the way I feel about you, right?" 

"We probably shouldn't wear the rings. That's another thing. Jim, I just went out and got these for us...I never should have _assumed_ something that big. If you don't want to wear the ring... I'll understand." 

"Listen to me, Chief, and hear me this time. I love you. You're my life partner. We're married. Period. Anybody who doesn't like that can go to hell." 

"You can't dismiss your dad that easily." 

"For God's sake, Blair, why not?" Jim moved away and started pacing. "He dismissed me that quickly when he found out I was a 'freak'. That was the beginning of the end with him and me. He never seemed...comfortable around me after that, and Stephen was the golden boy. I know he was always looking at me like I was up to something, even when I wasn't." Jim sat on the foot of the bed and rested his elbows on his knees. He hadn't progressed any farther than Blair in getting dressed, and it crossed his mind how easy it would be to pull his lover back into bed and cancel brunch with his father. "See, I'm used to being labeled a freak. To not being in his good graces. If he pulls that shit with me again, and rejects me because something about my life is different from the norm, then I guess I'll consider it one more lesson learned about trusting my old man." 

"I wish I could change what happened back then." Blair sat on the bed next to Jim and slid his arm under the larger man's arm, bringing their hands together on Jim's knee and lacing their fingers. "I wish I could have found you...helped you understand what you were. You must've felt so _alone_." 

"It was the last time I relied on anyone but myself...until now," Jim amended, picking up Blair's hand and kissing the spot where the wedding ring rested. "You're my number one, Chief. Don't forget it." 

"Maybe your dad'll be real broad-minded about everything." 

"Was that a pig I just saw flying past the window?" Jim quipped, standing up to go to the closet. "Okay, clothes." Jim scanned Blair's side of the closet and pulled out his tan suit, medium brown shirt and the tie that went with it. "Here. Country Club. Think snooty." Jim then pulled out his own gray suit, white shirt and tie and tossed it on the bed. 

* * *

The Cascade Country Club was nothing if it wasn't elegant. A massive buffet table spread with every conceivable breakfast delicacy was the central attraction of the large dining room. An ice sculpture in the shape of a swan, surrounded by fresh flowers, made for an impressive centerpiece. 

As the two men entered the dining room, Jim spotted his father waving to them from one of the prime tables near the windows, which were protected from the worst of the morning sun by large, striped canvas awnings. 

"Good morning," he greeted, smiling and shaking hands with Jim and then with Blair, directing them to the seats across from him at the table for four. "I hope you both know you would have been welcome to bring guests." 

"Thanks, Dad, but we preferred to keep it to just the three of us this time," Jim said, smiling slightly. He didn't clarify that there never would be any other guests at such a gathering. Some things could wait a while. 

"Blair, how are you feeling? You had a close call there." 

"Fine, thanks. I feel great now. But it was too close for comfort." 

"Way too close," Jim added, taking a sip of his water to coat his dry throat. //So do I lower the boom now or after we've had our custom made omelets prepared?// 

"I ordered the buffet for all of us, and coffee. If either of you would like anything else, please, feel free to--" 

"That sounds great," Jim replied. Both men being right-handed, the wedding rings hadn't happened to come into view yet. 

"Are you back to your teaching yet, Blair?" 

"I have the summer off. I wasn't going to originally, but then I was in the hospital for a while, and needed time to recuperate, so instead of dealing with summer classes, I'll be back on duty in the fall. I understand you're a friend of Dr. Watters in the Business Administration Department. I mentioned the name 'Ellison' to him--I was talking about Jim at the time--and he asked me if Jim was any relation to William Ellison." 

"Ed and I went to college together. Great guy. I should really give him a call sometime. Which reminds me, I ran into Dorothy Gates the other day. You remember Dorothy, Jim. She was in your class in high school." 

"I lost touch with most of those people after I went to military school," Jim replied, recalling his hasty departure for exile after the Cobra debacle. 

"Well, she's been living in Seattle," he paused while the waitress delivered coffee and refreshed their water glasses. "Her husband was an internist there--very well-known. He died in a car accident about six months ago, so she relocated to Cascade to be with her family." 

"How old was he?" Blair asked, obviously missing the impending 'here'd be a nice girl for you, Jimmy' inherent in the elder Ellison's story. 

"Forty-eight. He was quite a bit older than she is." 

"How is Dorothy handling it?" Jim asked, delaying the inevitable. 

"Very well. She's gotten a job at a PR firm here, but of course, it's always difficult breaking into a new social scene. She's joining the club, so that'll help." 

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm starved," Jim spoke up, sliding his chair back. 

After loading their plates and returning to the table, superficial small talk reigned as Jim described the most recent case he'd been assigned and his father shared a few anecdotes from a recent golf outing he'd attended. Usually the most conversational of all, Blair was unusually silent as he wore a polite smile and picked at his food. His stomach was tied up in a giant knot, and the first few bites he'd forced down were still stuck somewhere just below his esophagus. Jim had shot a few concerned glances his way, but nothing too obvious. 

The waitress cleared the dirty plates, and while William was singing the praises of the pastry table, Jim interrupted him. 

"Dad, there's something Blair and I want to tell you." 

"Sounds serious," he responded with a hesitant smile. 

"Well, it is, but in a good way. At least we think so. There's no way to preface this, so I'm just going to jump in with both feet. Blair and I are together. I mean, we're more than friends." 

"I don't understand." 

//Sure you do. You're just being obtuse so I have to elaborate,// Jim thought bitterly. //Blair and I are shaking the sheets, bouncing the bed, boffing like bunnies, doing the horizontal mambo...need a china pattern...how the hell would you like me to say it??// Jim let out a long sigh and looked down at the table a moment. Blair was the word man, but he wasn't saying anything either. 

"Blair and I..." he started, hating that his father's seemingly innocent but intent gaze could still leave him stammering. 

"Got married last weekend," Blair supplied, obviously tired of watching Jim squirm through a more subtle approach. 

"How? I didn't think...I think you have to slow down a little. Are you saying that you two are romantically involved?" 

"No, I'm saying we wanted an excuse to register at all the best stores for new houseware gifts," Jim shot back. 

"Jim," Blair admonished. Taking a deep breath, Blair tried again. "Jim and I are in love, and we made a commitment to each other. We can't have one in the traditional sense, but we made our vow to each other, and we're in the process of legalizing it with every conceivable piece of paper we can come up with--powers of attorney, joint bank accounts, each other's names on everything... It's the only way we can legally finalize it as a marriage." 

"Wait just a minute. Jimmy, your trust fund alone--" 

"I don't believe this. You're worried about my _trust fund_?" 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out that way. I just meant if you're making a lot of legal changes, you should be consulting a financial advisor, or--" "Or someone who can teach me how to keep Blair's hands off my money, right? You know something, Dad? I want him to have full access to every penny that's in there. Just like I have access to anything he has. That's what this relationship is about. It's not about drawing lines and hoarding separate stashes of wealth from each other." 

"I didn't imply you shouldn't share anything with Blair. But when you're dealing with a seven-figure investment, it's wise--" 

"I haven't done anything different with it except for giving Blair access to it. I don't want there to be _any_ questions if something happens to me that he's got anything I could provide for him." 

"I'm still here, guys," Blair spoke up. "Look, Mr. Ellison, if you think I'm licking my chops to get my hands on Jim's money, relax. The only thing out of all this I'm licking my chops to get my hands on is Jim. And I've got him. I didn't know anything about the trust fund before, and quite frankly, if Jim wants to use it for kindling in our fireplace at home, I'll light the first match. _I_ _don't_ _care_ _about_ _the_ _money_. I care about Jim. Period." Blair illustrated his point by taking a hold of Jim's hand where it rested on the table. "Would it be easier for you to accept us if Jim took me off the trust fund paperwork?" 

"That's none of his business, Chief. And it isn't going to happen." 

"If your family is going to look at me as some kind of opportunist because of it, then it should happen. Make me a beneficiary if you want, but don't give me access to it now. After we've been together twenty or thirty years, maybe they'll stop seeing it as a plot by a starving grad student to get his filthy paws on the family treasures." Blair slumped back in his chair. 

"I wasn't implying you weren't trustworthy, Blair." 

"Then what were you implying?" Jim shot back. 

"This whole thing is a major shock, Jimmy. I need some time to get used to the idea. I'm sorry I brought up the trust fund. You're right. It isn't my business anymore. It's your money. Your grandfather left it to you, not to me." The older man looked from Jim to Blair, and then back again. "I don't want to lose touch with you for another twenty years," he said to Jim. "You have to understand...this is a hard thing for me to understand...to accept." 

"But you want to try?" Blair asked, giving Jim's father an opportunity he seemed to crave as he latched onto it, his whole expression coming to life. 

"Yes, I do. I don't want to lie to either one of you. This isn't what I would have chosen for my son." 

"That's it." Jim pushed his chair back from the table, but Blair put a hand on his arm. 

"Hear him out, Jim." 

"You know everything's going to be difficult for you this way, don't you? Your career, society...everything?" 

"What's wrong, pop? Huh? Don't want me to turn out to be a _freak_? Why does this conversation sound so damn familiar it isn't even funny?" Jim demanded, his voice rising a little. 

"Jim, come on, let it go, man," Blair said quietly. "We don't have to do this here." 

"Why not?" Jim demanded. 

"Because you've got more class than that, that's why. And this isn't the place or the time to have a shouting match." 

"I'm only thinking of what's best for you, son." 

"What's best for me," Jim replied, more quietly now, smiling and shaking his head. "That's a joke. It's never been about me, has it, Dad? It's always been about you. You convinced me I was some sort of freak of nature just to keep me quiet so I didn't upset your status quo. So you didn't have to take more time off work to deal with your son the freak. And here we go again. I come to you with one thing in my entire adult life and ask you to accept it, to maybe, God forbid, even _share my happiness_ about it, and we're back to what other people are going to think--in other words, what all these nice people here at 'the club' are going to think when they meet your faggot son and his faggot lover." 

"Jimmy, for God's sake, I never taught you to be a bigot. I never discriminated against people in my company for their lifestyle choices. But it's a hell of a lot easier to be broad-minded when it's not your son showing up with another man and saying they're married. Look around this restaurant. Do you see any other male couples holding hands at the table?" 

"No, Dad, I don't. As a matter of fact, I don't see _any_ couples holding hands at the table, which is, quite honestly, more than a little pathetic." Jim did stand up now, laying his napkin on the table and moving toward the aisle. Blair followed suit, resigned to the fact that this was an even worse disaster than he anticipated. 

"Jim--" 

"I don't know why I thought anything had changed," Jim said in a slightly strained voice. "Maybe because I wanted it to." He looked at his speechless father for a moment, and then headed for the exit with Blair close on his heels. 

* * *

"Maybe he'll come around," Blair offered, snuggling closer against Jim's chest. Their lovemaking had been an almost frantic reaffirmation of their relationship, and Blair's voice was slurred a bit with fatigue and the overwhelming lethargy that follows explosive sex. 

"I wanted this to be different," Jim said, in the same quiet tone he'd used in the restaurant. "I wanted...just this once..." He let the sentence trail off. 

"Don't write him off yet. His generation have an even harder time dealing with something like this than younger people do, and with society's prejudices and stereotypes, it's not too surprising he was upset. It didn't sound like--" 

"Stop it! Damn it, Blair, stop giving me a fucking anthropology lecture every time we have a conversation!" Jim tossed the covers back, and roughly dislodging Blair from his side, got up and grabbed his robe. 

He went into the bathroom and slammed the door. After using the facilities and washing his hands, he made his way to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. Blair hadn't moved from the bed upstairs. Jim let out a sigh and cursed himself silently for turning loose on Blair all the anger he felt at his father. Not twenty minutes ago he had been taking his lover passionately, marking him, grunting out words of love and devotion as he took what he needed. //You're a real prize-winning asshole, Ellison,// he berated himself, climbing back up the stairs. 

Blair was curled on his side facing the stairs, and brushed at his eyes when Jim startled him by appearing at the top of them. 

"Can you forgive me for being an insensitive asshole?" Jim sat on the bed but didn't touch his lover right away until he found out if he was in the dog house or not. 

"I should butt out of this thing with your dad. And you're right. I don't really have anything useful to offer except some boring academic insight." 

"Blair, I love you. I'm not mad at you. I'm pissed off at him...at the world. You were just...here. So you got it. That's not an excuse, but..." Jim shrugged. 

"I know this is hard for you. I didn't want to screw things up with your dad. You guys were just making a few tentative steps toward reconciling, and then you announce that you married another man over the weekend. It's not surprising he was shaken up by that." Blair pulled himself up to sit and stuffed a couple pillows behind his back. 

"He as much as said you were in it for the money with that trust fund remark." 

"I know." Blair sighed. "You have to look at where he's coming from, Jim. To him, that trust fund looks more precious than...your virginity with men. You can guess which one was more precious to me. But the fact remains, if you judge what he values by what we value, you're always going to be pissed off at him. His priorities are different. That doesn't make him an evil person, but it does make it tough to have a meaningful relationship. He could better deal with it if I used you on a sexual or emotional level and dumped you than if I made off with your trust fund. Because if the same thing happened to him, he knows which one _he'd_ see as a bigger loss." 

"You really don't rest until you find a way to see something good in people, do you?" Jim asked, reaching out and pushing a stray curl away from Blair's face. 

"Your dad's _trying_. He's falling on his face at the moment, but he's _trying_. Maybe he _does_ need to see this relationship last for a while before he understands that it has nothing to do with money. Maybe he needs to know me better. We've met like, what, once before? I think if we can just all be calm about this, it might work eventually." 

"It just pisses me off because it's too damned much like what he did when I was a kid. Thanks to him, I couldn't even deal effectively with these senses when they flared up again. I thought I was going insane. Just because I'll be different than his friend's kids, he can't stand it. Blair...he made me feel like I was some kind of...of _monster_ because of my senses. And now, again because I'm different, he's starting right in on his 'look around at the other people' shit." 

Unable to stand the strained, miserable look on Jim's face, Blair got up on his knees and moved over to his lover, wrapping his arms around Jim's neck and holding on tightly. Jim clung to the warm, naked body that wrapped around him until Blair was sitting on his lap, legs around Jim's hips and arms draped around his neck while they started kissing. 

"Do you love your dad?" Blair asked quietly, stroking Jim's cheek. 

"I don't want to. When I saw what a damn waste it was, I didn't want to," Jim responded honestly, swallowing hard. 

"Because when you love someone, they can hurt you very deeply." 

"Yeah, something like that. I thought...if I could distance myself..." 

"It wouldn't hurt so much," Blair finished the sentence, then tightened his hold on Jim, pulling him close. "Just like what happened today hurt." He felt a slow nod. "Do you think your dad loves you?" 

"In his own way, yeah, I think he does." 

"Then maybe he's just not too good at showing it?" Blair suggested, pulling back and looking into Jim's eyes. 

"Maybe. Almost as bad as the jerk that made love to you and then bit your head off." He kissed Blair's cheek, then drew back, looking apologetic. 

"Well, it works for the praying mantis," Blair responded, grinning. Jim laughed and threw them both down on the mattress, devouring Blair's face, neck and shoulder with hungry lips. He was just reaching down to open his robe when there was a knock at the front door. 

"Shit." Jim muttered, straightening up and looking regretfully down at his naked lover. 

"Maybe if we're quiet, they'll go away." 

"Good thinking." Jim covered Blair's body with his and began peppering the younger man's face with kisses. 

Another knock. 

"Jimmy?" More knocking. 

"So much for ignoring them 'til they go away." Jim sat up, groaning. Blair looked puzzled. "It's my father," he said, realizing that Blair hadn't heard the spoken "Jimmy" that had tipped Jim off. 

"Oh great." Blair sat up, looking around frantically. "Man, I've probably got about a zillion marks on my neck and my hair looks like I just stuck my finger in a light socket. 

"Relax. I'll handle this one. Keep things warmed up for me." Jim kissed Blair's forehead and then went downstairs to the door, tightening the tie on his robe. 

"Did I get you out of bed?" Jim's father asked as Jim let him in the apartment. 

"What is it, Dad?" Jim closed the door. 

"I'm sorry about how things turned out at the restaurant today." 

"So am I. But I guess nothing's really changed. I'm still a freak by your definition. Just for a different reason." 

"I don't know how else to say this except to be honest. I don't have anything against...homosexuals--at least not in theory. But to be honest with you, it makes me sick and it's hard for me to watch it. I have to wonder if this is somehow my fault. I know I wasn't the world's best father, and now...this happens and I keep asking myself what I could have done differently--" 

"You're talking about this like I just told you I was a serial killer." 

"Did it happen in the army? I've heard stories...about soldiers sometimes turning to each other... Is that why things failed with Carolyn? My God, Jim, how long have you been gay? All your life?" 

"Is that what's driving you crazy here? You can't find a label for it? I don't consider myself 'gay' now. If Blair weren't in my life, I wouldn't be out picking up guys." 

"So it's just Blair? Is it the long hair? I'm trying to understand this, Jimmy." 

"You think I'd start having sex with a man because he had _long hair_??" Jim demanded, his voice raised with shock. 

"I don't know! That's why I'm asking," the older man responded, sounding a bit defeated. "I don't want to end this reconciliation before it even starts but I can't lie to you and tell you that I understand and agree with your lifestyle." 

"I wasn't asking your permission," Jim shot back acidly. 

"I never thought you were. I'm just trying to find out if you really understand what you feel yourself, or if you're overreacting to Blair's brush with death." 

"If I hear that suggestion one more time, I swear I'm going to explode. Being glad someone isn't dead is a far cry from wanting to be intimate with them. As for what morning I woke up and turned gay, it didn't work that way. I fell in love, and when I found the right person, it happened to be a man instead of a woman. Period. As for Carolyn, you want to know why that failed? I'll tell you. She was just like you." 

"Meaning what?" 

"Meaning no matter what I did, it wasn't right! I jumped through hoop after hoop to make her happy, and never once did I jump high enough to suit her. Sound familiar?" Jim shook his head. "I fell in love with Blair, and it took me seeing him dead to realize that, but there it is. He loves me back-- _me_ , the person I am, not the puppet that you or Carolyn or the US Army made dance by pulling a few major strings. He's willing to spend the rest of his life with me. We're happy, we have a good life together, and I don't know what label you want to slap on that, but do what you have to do." 

"I'm trying to...deal with this. I know you're determined to...to live like this. But I can't lie to you...the thought of...of touching another man that way makes my skin crawl. I don't think I'll ever feel differently about that. You might have to realize, Jimmy, that the whole world isn't going to suddenly change its view of things just for you. To some people, I'm sure they can be among homosexuals and watch them interact and show affection and not be repelled by that. I can't say that honestly. That doesn't mean I don't still want to see you, or that I don't love you as my son anymore." 

"You just find my whole relationship with Blair sickening and think he's after my money, right? That's a great basis for a relationship between us, Dad. I don't think so." 

"I was out of line with what I said about the trust fund. But I've heard some real horror stories of people who have signed everything over in the name of love and ended up bankrupt while their ex lived the good life." 

"You're right. You were out of line." 

"Do you _want_ to find any middle ground here, son?" William Ellison pinned his son with an intense gaze. "It seems to me that you just want to hold onto every little infraction and not meet in the middle at all." 

"Where is the middle ground exactly? You've just told me that male couples make you sick." 

"The middle ground is that I'm willing to try. I'd like to get to know Blair a little better. Maybe we could all spend some time together once in a while. I can't lie to you and say that the whole concept doesn't still bother me. But I will try." 

"Sounds reasonable to me," Blair interjected as he came down the stairs. He'd pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and managed to force his hair against its will into a pony tail. 

"It sounds reasonable?" Jim replied, incredulous. "You're the fortune-hunter, remember?" 

"I just don't see what any of us has to lose by at least _trying_ to get along. Mr. Ellison--" 

"Call me Bill." 

"Bill is just being honest about how he feels. Maybe it's not politically correct, but it's the truth--and it's probably true of a lot of other people we're going to run into who will either discriminate against us or put on a phony front. At least this is honest, and we can work from there. If it doesn't work, well, then at least we know we tried." 

"You really feel okay with this?" Jim asked, stunned. 

"I don't feel okay about your dad always thinking of me as an opportunist after your money or if it always grosses him out to see us touch each other, but sometimes it takes time for people to adjust to a new situation. I'm willing to give it a try if you guys are--see if we can make any progress." 

"I guess it's your call, Jimmy," his father stated simply. 

"If Blair's okay with it, I am too," Jim responded, smiling with obvious affection at his lover. 

"You think maybe we could make another attempt at going out to eat? I'm starving," Blair said, resting a hand on his stomach. 

* * *

Blair tipped back and fell into the cushions of the couch. Jim smiled at him as he locked the door behind them, then moved Blair's feet up long enough to sit on the couch and then pulled them back in his lap. 

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Blair asked, yawning. 

"It probably wouldn't have been if I didn't know how he really feels about the whole thing." 

"You know, it's not all bad knowing where we're really starting from. Most of society's opinion is going to be more like his. Actually, he's one of the better ones. At least he cares enough about you to agree to try to find some common ground. Homphobia is always going to be right where it is if the people who can't stand the thought of same-sex couples can't ever be honest about that and then have the opportunity to learn more about it. There's hope for your dad. He doesn't just automatically hate gays, and he didn't call you names or end the relationship. He also doesn't have a history of bigotry in his business dealings. He just needs time." 

"You're the one he's the hardest on in all this and you're sticking up for him." 

"I'm an anthropologist, Jim. I've spent my entire adult life studying _people_ and human behavior. Guys your dad's age are never going to rejoice when their son shows up and says he's gay. And before you start in on something about labels, remember that that's how society is going to see this. Nobody's going to say, 'oh, isn't that nice that Ellison fell in love with Sandburg'. They're going to say 'gee, I never would've guessed Ellison was gay'. This isn't going to be about love. To most of the world, it's about sex, and about labels." 

"Kind of a pessimistic view from you, Chief." 

"Not really. It's a realistic view. I think your dad may come around to being able to have a relationship of some sort with you. He's getting hit right up front with having to handle us as a couple. It's not like he had time to get used to the idea that the person you would eventually fall in love with would be another man. Some parents know their kids are gay, and they have some time to adjust. Not that they all do. But this way, one minute, he has a son who's a cop, ex-military, has been married before--prime example of a very heterosexual male image--next minute, his son's married to another man. He's not a young man, Jim. His whole generation was raised viewing homosexuals as perverts, and before the anti-sodomy laws were repealed, they were criminals too." 

"He doesn't deserve you sticking up for him like this." Jim shook his head. "He insults you, as much as accuses you of being a fortune-hunter, and you're the one who works the hardest to save this relationship." 

"Because he does love you, and as much as he's hurt you, and as much as you don't want to, you love him too. And I want you to be happy." 

"As long as I have you, that's all I care about." 

"I feel the same way. But if a little patience and tolerance on our part can salvage this situation, isn't it worth it?" 

"I suppose it is," Jim responded quietly. "I hate having someone look at us and see something ugly. What we have...it's the most beautiful thing...the most... _sacred_ thing in my life. And to everybody else, it's disgusting. Something that makes them sick." 

"Not to everybody else. Our friends, the ones who matter, have been great to us. What other people see or think or feel can't touch what we feel. But if it helps, I know what you mean. I hate having our love reduced to kinky sex in other people's minds." 

"We could just take off. Go somewhere and start over. Maybe in a few years, with some wise investing, we could just...go somewhere together and live in peace. Not cope with all the shit that goes with a bigoted PD or prejudiced relatives." 

"I think you're talking about paradise, Jim. That doesn't exist in reality." Blair smiled. "Well, except when we make love." 

"Sometimes it just sweeps over me...the horror of all of it." Jim's voice was strained with the threat of tears. 

"Of what, lover?" Blair frowned in concern and moved to kneel on the cushion next to Jim. 

"If...I'd lost you. I know what promises I've made to you...and I would keep those now. But if I had lost you at the fountain that day...I know I wouldn't have lasted until nightfall. You're my light, Blair...my who world." Jim took a deep, shaky breath. "How scary is _that_? To need anybody that much." 

"Pretty damn scary. I know. I'm right there with you, remember?" Blair laid a gentle hand against Jim's cheek to turn the other man's face toward him. "You're my life. Everything that matters in this world to me. If I lost you, I'd still _exist_ , but living would be a thing of the past." 

"What do you say we go work on creating a little of that paradise we were talking about, huh?" Jim said in a husky voice, a soft smile on his face and he pulled Blair into his arms. 

End of this installment...stay tuned! 


End file.
